


back in the saddle

by thunderylee



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Sexy Zone
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: After Fuuma gushes over Yuuto in his Jweb, Yamada intervenes.





	back in the saddle

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Fuuma is shrugging off his costume when an unfamiliar arm wraps around his shoulder. It’s the right height for Sou, but the wrong weight. Being as it’s the Shounen Club studio, Fuuma isn’t that worried about it, though most of the juniors are too intimidated to try such a bold move.

“Could you be anymore obvious?”

That has Fuuma looking up, because it’s Yamada’s voice and Yamada’s not even supposed to be here today. “What?”

“Your completely homosexual gushing over Yutti on your Jweb,” Yamada goes on, and Fuuma blinks. “Did you jerk off to his spread, too?”

“I did not—” Fuuma starts, but Yamada’s not listening as he drags Fuuma away from prying ears.

“Look,” Yamada hisses conspiratorially. “I know you’re heartbroken, so I can set this up for you.”

“Heartbroken?” Fuuma repeats, bewildered. “What are you even talking about?”

Yamada tsks at him. “I’m not dumb, Fuuma. Everyone knows you and Kento had a thing.”

Fuuma wants to reply to that, but he can’t find the words. He just gapes at Yamada instead, questioning his senpai’s sanity.

“We’ve all been there, man.” Yamada claps him on the back. “A little rebound dick never hurt anyone. Besides, Yutti’s a fantastic lover. He’ll make you forget there are any other Nakajimas but him.”

“I…” Fuuma swallows hard as he weighs his options. On one hand, he could clear up the misunderstanding. On the other, he could get laid. “Okay.”

“Great.” Yamada flashes a rather creepy grin. “You still live with your parents, right?”

“Yeah,” Fuuma answers sheepishly.

“It’s cool, I have an idea.” Yamada looks around, notices Kento walking out the door to go home, and smirks. “Wait here.”

Fuuma finishes changing in the meantime, toweling off as much as he can in lieu of taking an actual shower, though his hair is still damp when Yamada returns, jingling a familiar set of keys. “Are those—?”

“Usually I’m not one for petty revenge,” Yamada starts, “but it’s convenient and you can get back at him by doing someone else in his car.”

“How did you even get his keys?” Fuuma asks, trying not to think about where this is all going. “Wasn’t he on his way home?”

“I’m his favorite senpai,” is all Yamada says as he tosses Fuuma the keys. “I can probably buy you a few hours at least. Have Yutti text me when you’re done.”

Just like that he leaves, and Fuuma stands there as the reality of the situation weighs down on him along with the keys in his hand.

“What was that all about?” Shori asks innocently. “Yamada-senpai had a strange look on his face.”

“Yamada-senpai is crazy,” Fuuma says seriously. “Stay away from him.”

Shori just nods and watches with big eyes as Fuuma gathers his bag and leaves. He doesn’t even know where he’s supposed to meet Yuuto or anything. Usually the hosts leave right after the taping, but he would hope that Yuuto’s still in the building. Fuuma isn’t about to drive Kento’s car without a license, fake breakup or not.

He heads to the parking garage, which turns out to be a very good idea because Yuuto is leaning against the wall right next to the door, scrolling through his phone and looking like he’s posing for a magazine. Okay, maybe Fuuma has a bit of a hard-on for him, but up until a few minutes ago it was more of the casual admiration kind. Now Fuuma just wants to admire him stretched out along the backseat of Kento’s car.

“Hey!” Yuuto exclaims, grinning as he notices Fuuma approaching. “Yama-chan said you wanted to talk to me.”

“He said…” Fuuma trails off, inwardly cursing that little shit for putting him in this position. “That’s all he said?!”

“I heard about you and Kento.” Yuuto frowns sympathetically and places a hand on Fuuma’s shoulder, squeezing him a bit. “I’m so sorry.”

Fuuma thinks about being honest, but his skin burns under Yuuto’s gentle eyes and Fuuma likes the way it feels. “It hurts so much,” Fuuma says, putting on his best sad face. “He cheated on me.”

He’s ready to conjure up some tears if need be, but Yuuto pulls him right into a hug and Fuuma breathes in his scent, barely tall enough to reach his shoulder. “What an asshole.”

Fuuma would feel bad about damaging Kento’s reputation if he thought that Kento would care one way or the other. Instead, he wraps his arms around Yuuto’s thin frame and holds him close. “I really just want to get him back by fucking someone else in his car or something.”

Yuuto inhales sharply, his hug becoming much less platonic as his next words are spoken into Fuuma’s ear. “Do you have a key?”

The jingle in Fuuma’s hand is his answer, and together they enter the parking garage, Yuuto navigating Fuuma ahead of him. There aren’t very many cars left and Fuuma finds Kento’s right away, his shiny new convertible with the top up because he doesn’t want to mess up his hair. Kento’s such a priss, Fuuma muses as he beeps the car unlocked. There’s no way they could ever date for real.

Fuuma gets the door open and pushes the driver’s seat up while Yuuto surveys the situation. “How do you want to do this?” Yuuto asks curiously. “I’m too tall for most vehicle positions.”

“On your back,” Fuuma replies, a little more authoritative than he intends, but Yuuto instantly folds himself into the backseat and Fuuma follows. Once behind the privacy of Kento’s tinted windows, Yuuto lies down as instructed and Fuuma straddles his waist, looking down into dark, dark eyes.

It’s a little cramped, but the air is already thick with arousal and Fuuma doesn’t waste any time before he leans forward and presses their mouths together. Yuuto kisses him back, hands all over Fuuma’s torso over his shirt, then under it. Fuuma arches at the touch, those long fingers leaving even longer trails of heat in their wakes, and he rushes to get his own hands on Yuuto’s skin as well.

Yuuto feels even better than he looks, shuddering lightly beneath Fuuma whenever Fuuma drags fingers over a good spot. He feels Yuuto fisting his shirt before it’s pulled off, followed by Yuuto’s, which is aggressively shoved over his head by Fuuma. Chest to chest, Fuuma stretches out on top of Yuuto and rocks his hips a little, feeling the hardening erection against his own along with a moan on his tongue.

It’s Yuuto who reaches down first, groping right between Fuuma’s legs and pulling a low noise from Fuuma’s lungs. Fuuma kisses him harder, returning the favor along with a desperate attempt at opening Yuuto’s complex belt, which has Yuuto laughing into their kiss as he brings his other hand down to help. His noises get higher once Fuuma’s hand is around him, pushing up into the touch while Fuuma gasps at how Yuuto’s cock is long like the rest of him.

He can’t wait to have that inside him, his body throbbing at the thought as he kicks off his sweats. Yuuto’s hands go right for his ass and Fuuma groans, encouraging him in every way possible as he squeezes Yuuto firmly enough to make him moan. His noises get higher in pitch with each stroke, and Fuuma makes it until Yuuto whispers his name against his lips before tearing his mouth away to kiss down Yuuto’s throat.

“Do you have something?” he asks, because he sure has hell doesn’t bring that shit to Shounen Club taping. Yuuto nods, because he apparently does, and Fuuma doesn’t know what kind of operation those JUMP kids run, but it’s genius. “Good, use it.”

“You’re a little bossy,” Yuuto comments with a chuckle as he reaches into his pocket. “I like it.”

Fuuma thinks about saying that’s what drove Kento to cheat, but that would probably turn the mood sour, and besides, Yuuto’s already got his fingers slick and trailing behind Fuuma’s balls. He pushes one in and Fuuma arches, rocking back against it, desperate for more. Yuuto gives it to him, hitting him deep with those long fingers as he eases in another and brushes that spot that makes Fuuma lose his mind.

“Damn,” Yuuto whispers, brushing Fuuma’s damp hair out of his face with his other hand. “Clearly he wasn’t giving it to you good enough, either. Let senpai take care of you.”

Now Fuuma’s positive that Kento will kill him if this gets out, but he’s not too worried about it as Yuuto stretches him with three fingers and makes his body ache for it. He snatches the lube and coats Yuuto’s cock with it, continuing to touch him longer than necessary just to hear those high-pitched moans in his ear.

“Are you ready? You feel ready.” Yuuto’s voice is filthy, his words followed by a flick of his tongue on Fuuma’s tragus. “Show me how you can ride it, Fuuma.”

His fingers fall from Fuuma’s body as Fuuma pushes himself up, sitting as straight as he can without banging his head on the soft top. Yuuto holds his cock steady while Fuuma sits back, slowly taking it inside him until he feels Yuuto’s hips under his thighs. His eyes pop open and he looks down at Yuuto, who’s biting his lip with his own eyes hooded and skin pink.

Watching that face as Fuuma starts to roll his own hips makes it even better, the hisses and moans slipping out as he squeezes tight around Yuuto. Fuuma braces himself with both hands gripping onto Yuuto’s biceps, establishing a rhythm as he bounces as much as he can with his limited space.

It seems to be enough for Yuuto to grab onto his thighs, anyway. Fingers digging into his muscles, urging him on, Fuuma chokes on his breaths from both the stuffy air of the car and the way Yuuto’s cock slams inside him each time he rocks down. He feels it in his abs, too, a dull burn forming despite his usual workout load.

“Fuck,” Yuuto groans, his voice even more enticing when he’s deep inside. “Lean back a little bit.”

Fuuma follows directions, moving one hand to the soft top to balance. He has to hunch his shoulders, but it’s worth it with the new angle that has a moan tearing from his lungs. Yuuto’s fingers tighten even more and his own hips snap up in shallow thrusts, pushing him even deeper, and Fuuma makes it a few more undulations before reaching down, arousal soaring from Yuuto’s eyes watching his hand fly up and down his cock.

“Shit, I’m gonna come,” he mutters, and Yuuto thrusts harder, hissing “yeah” and “let me see it” until Fuuma cries out, spilling hot over his fingers and grasping onto the soft top ceiling for purchase that he never seems to get. He feels Yuuto finish as well, those high-pitched noises enhancing Fuuma’s orgasm and making his skin tingle for much longer than usual.

It should be awkward now, but Yuuto just gently guides Fuuma into a more comfortable position and produces napkins from nowhere to clean them up. “I don’t think anything got on the interior,” Yuuto murmurs, making no effort to push Fuuma away from where he’s curled up on top of him, limbs completely pliant.

“I don’t care if it did,” Fuuma says breathlessly, the bitterness coming easily as he falls back into character. “Serves him right.”

He expects Yuuto to say something else, or maybe start to look for their clothes, but all he does is tug on Fuuma’s hair until Fuuma can lift his head in Yuuto’s general direction. This means his eyes aren’t open to see Yuuto leaning in, surprising him with a kiss that spreads throughout Fuuma’s already sensitive body and—as promised—makes him forget that anyone but Yuuto exists.

Yamada’s hair looks like someone brushed it straight up when they meet up with him, that psychotic grin getting bigger when he sees Fuuma limping a little. “We’ll drop Kento’s keys in the bathroom on the way out,” he tells Fuuma. “He’s probably just about to notice that he doesn’t have them.”

“Can you at least fix your hair before we leave?” Yuuto asks, tsking at the other JUMP member. “My mother is going to think something is going on between us—again.”

“She doesn’t have to be wrong~” Yamada teases with a poke to the side, and Yuuto rolls his eyes and mutters something about washing the kouhai out of his mouth before he says shit like that.

“I hope I made you feel even a little bit better,” Yuuto says to Fuuma, his expression softening. “If you get lonely, you know where to find me.”

Fuuma stands blankly as they leave, the part of his mind that hasn’t yet been fucked out mulling over the incredulity of this entire situation.

“Oh, Fuuma, thank god,” a voice he would know anywhere appears from behind him, and Fuuma tries not to look guilty as he turns around to face the eldest member of his group. “Have you seen my keys? I swear I just had them before—well, earlier.”

“I haven’t,” Fuuma answers, feigning concern. “Maybe try the bathroom?”

“Wouldn’t hurt, I guess.” Kento starts to jog away, but then stops and looks over his shoulder. “Did you know that there’s a rumor going around about us having a nasty breakup? Like we were actually dating or something.”

Fuuma sighs in relief. “I did hear about that. Weird, right?”

“Yeah.” Kento makes a strange face, then returns to his usual grin and shrugs. “So if you hear that I said anything really awful, like for example that you’re hung like a fresh junior, it’s clearly not true.”

Suddenly Fuuma no longer feels guilty about tainting the backseat of Kento’s car.


End file.
